


Sceptre of Flamel - #32 - Farewell

by zosimos (trismegistus)



Series: 50 Themes Sceptre of Flamel [15]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M, Possession, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-23
Updated: 2010-05-23
Packaged: 2017-10-09 16:19:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/89319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trismegistus/pseuds/zosimos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt #32 of 50</p><p>Samael deals with Edward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sceptre of Flamel - #32 - Farewell

The pain was indescribable. Edward knew, he knew that there were weapons out there specifically forged to hurt and kill angels; they were forged from the swords of archangels fallen. Forged and reforged, they were rare but they were out there and there was no telling who had a reforged archangel's sword until the metal was slicing through armor and flesh.

The sword had punctured his side, pinning him to the ground. Edward was forcing himself to keep conscious, if he passed out he was dead. Trying to recall what muscles held that side of his torso together, reciting the organs in his head punctured by the weapon. How he was still breathing he wasn't certain but he had to focus on the fact that he was still alive, and if he was still alive he could still fight.

Could he, still fight...?

The thing wore Roy's face. It wore Roy's face and had Roy's voice and he was smirking, the heel of one boot on the pommel of the sword and pushing it deeper into Edward's flesh. The eyes, though. They weren't Roy's eyes, he couldn't see Roy in them and that was the only thing keeping him sane at this very moment.

Edward gasped in pain as Samael twisted the sword in Edward's side. "Why won't you just give up and _die_?" he snarled, finally ripping the weapon from Edward's side, cutting through the metal of his armor as if it was nothing at all.

All he could taste was blood. His vision hadn't gone yet, this wasn't like the time Envy killed him. Edward could feel the organs repairing themselves. Samael knew how angel physiology worked, he was waiting too long, letting Edward heal too much. Samael was playing with him, torturing him in the most painful way possible.

Edward pushed against the floor, the metal of his greaves scraping the stone as he started to try to crawl away. He rolled on to his stomach, fingers scrabbling against the ground. Samael was wiping the blood off his blade, a double-edged short sword. Edward's blood stained the ground as he tried to get away, he had to get away because he couldn't fight Roy, no matter what Samael did to him if he was wearing Roy's face Edward couldn't do it. He was too weak.

He had nothing left in his lungs to make noise with when Samael impaled his shoulder with the sword. Edward coughed blood onto the floor and snarled as Samael frowned, putting pressure onto the sword. "Oh," the demon said. "I had forgotten, the automail." He leaned down and gripped Edward's right wrist. "I wonder what would happen if I, just-"

This time Edward screamed in pain as Samael ripped his automail arm from its socket, severing wires and nerve endings with a single yank. He choked on the blood and bile in his throat as Samael tossed the now-useless limb away. It slid across the concrete and came to a rest against the legs of Barakiel, who put one boot on it. Rachiel looked away.

"Hate to interupt your fun, boss," Barakiel said. Samael pulled his sword out of Edward, who sobbed into the ground with pain and he turned to Barakiel.

"This better be good," Samael said, in Roy's carefully neutral voice.

"It's the nephilim," Barakiel said. "Their representative is here, and wanting to see you."

"Tell them I'm busy."

"Fuck if they'll listen to me. You know how those inbred bastards are, it was all I could do to keep them out of here."

Samael sighed and crouched beside Edward. He grabbed a handful of Edward's loose blond hair, stained brown in spots with blood. "I should slit your throat," he said speculatively. "But there's no fun in that." He let Edward's head drop and stood up, handing Barakiel the sword. "Let's go."

Barakiel looked at the sword in his hands, then over to Edward, who had turned his head to watch them with dull, half-glazed over eyes. "My lord?"

"Let him be," Samael said. "He's not worth our time." Samael stopped in front of Rachiel, who looked at him evenly. "He'll be dead soon, anyway."

Edward pushed against the ground, he didn't have the strength for it, he could hardly move but he lifted his head, snarling. "You better kill me now," he gasped, choking again on the bile in his throat. "Because this isn't going to do it."

Barakiel kicked Edward in the face, breaking his nose in the process. Samael held up his hand, then turned back to Edward, who now could only see through one eye. "You really believe that you can kill me?" He pointed to his face. "So long as I wear this face, you can't touch me." He grinned and it was the most evil and twisted grin Edward had ever seen on that face. "If you could only hear what your precious Mustang is saying, worm."

"Samael," Rachiel said. "You're keeping the delegation waiting."

The demon turned his back on Edward and left the room, followed by Barakiel, who was laughing. Rachiel hesitated in the doorway, and glanced back at Edward. Then she turned her face away and ran to catch up with the others.


End file.
